servants did not respect her husband, but it was the first time she had heard one of them speak ill of him in her presence.
“He asked for whatever our master could find on hand to give the ten men he sent. They were looking for food, my lady.”
Of course, the need for food for such a large contingent of men and women would be a constant source of concern for David. His unsolicited work for Nabal should have been met with gratitude. Even she knew how easily shepherds could be accosted in the Wilderness of Maon. Barren land made for sharp tempers when food ran short and water ran low.
And then another thought pierced her. Had Daniel been among the men greeting Nabal? Surely not. Surely he would know better. Even after two years away, Nabal would recognize her brother. They’d known each other for as long as she could remember.
She rubbed her arms and looked beyond Jakim to the rock-strewn hills in the distance. Nabal’s disdain for David and loyalty to Saul were no secret to those who knew Nabal best. But disdain or not, her husband’s actions were grave indeed. Men like David were warriors first and, as with all men, wore the need for respect on their sleeves.
A shiver fluttered in her stomach, and every last remnant of hunger fled. She must act. If Nabal’s actions had put their household in danger, then perhaps by God’s grace, hers might undo the consequences that were sure to come. Even her father and Daniel would not be able to stop a warrior like David. She knew only too well what it was like to live with an unpredictable, often violent man. And knowing Daniel, he would be only too happy to fuel the king-elect’s anger. He would like nothing more than to see Nabal lying in a pool of his own blood.
Oh, Adonai, what should I do?
Zahara’s touch on her arm made her jump, drawing her thoughts back into focus.
Abigail looked again at Jakim. “Take two hundred loaves, two bottles of wine, five sheep ready dressed, five measures of parched corn, a hundred clusters of raisins, and two hundred cakes of figs, and put them on donkeys. Go on before me, and I will come afterward.” All her calculations on the storehouse lists would be wrong now, and Nabal would surely question her, but she would have to take that risk. She would come up with a solution and an explanation later.
She met Zahara’s worried gaze, suddenly wondering who was the bigger fool, she or her husband. What could she possibly say to David to appease him if the food was not enough? She swiveled to look at Jakim, who was already mounting his exhausted horse. “Hurry,” she whispered as he galloped toward the storehouses.
Zahara stepped closer and stared at her as if she had lost her senses. “You would stand in the way of hostile men, my lady? If David doesn’t kill you, Nabal will.”
Abigail lifted her robe and pushed past Zahara back to the house, her heart pounding harder than her running feet. Zahara was right. There would be no way to explain this to Nabal except to tell him the truth. And once she told him the truth, things would not bode well for her.
Zahara caught up with her as they reached the courtyard. “Are you sure about this, my lady?” Though by her tone, Zahara was not trying to dissuade her. How could she?
“I would rather risk Nabal’s wrath than allow our innocent servants to suffer.” She offered Zahara a weak smile, stifling the fear that was swiftly and surely stealing her peace. “Come, help me dress in clothes that will catch an angry man’s attention. Perhaps God made me beautiful enough to allow me to speak. And if my words fall on ears of hardened stone, then at least I will have died trying.”
14
“Gird on your swords, every man of you!” David reached for the blade he had just finished sharpening and tucked it into the scabbard at his side, his hand trembling as he did so. Fierce rage rushed through him. He drew in a deep breath, willing himself to remain steady, to think. He looked up at the
“He asked for whatever our master could find on hand to give the ten men he sent. They were looking for food, my lady.”
Of course, the need for food for such a large contingent of men and women would be a constant source of concern for David. His unsolicited work for Nabal should have been met with gratitude. Even she knew how easily shepherds could be accosted in the Wilderness of Maon. Barren land made for sharp tempers when food ran short and water ran low.
And then another thought pierced her. Had Daniel been among the men greeting Nabal? Surely not. Surely he would know better. Even after two years away, Nabal would recognize her brother. They’d known each other for as long as she could remember.
She rubbed her arms and looked beyond Jakim to the rock-strewn hills in the distance. Nabal’s disdain for David and loyalty to Saul were no secret to those who knew Nabal best. But disdain or not, her husband’s actions were grave indeed. Men like David were warriors first and, as with all men, wore the need for respect on their sleeves.
A shiver fluttered in her stomach, and every last remnant of hunger fled. She must act. If Nabal’s actions had put their household in danger, then perhaps by God’s grace, hers might undo the consequences that were sure to come. Even her father and Daniel would not be able to stop a warrior like David. She knew only too well what it was like to live with an unpredictable, often violent man. And knowing Daniel, he would be only too happy to fuel the king-elect’s anger. He would like nothing more than to see Nabal lying in a pool of his own blood.
Oh, Adonai, what should I do?
Zahara’s touch on her arm made her jump, drawing her thoughts back into focus.
Abigail looked again at Jakim. “Take two hundred loaves, two bottles of wine, five sheep ready dressed, five measures of parched corn, a hundred clusters of raisins, and two hundred cakes of figs, and put them on donkeys. Go on before me, and I will come afterward.” All her calculations on the storehouse lists would be wrong now, and Nabal would surely question her, but she would have to take that risk. She would come up with a solution and an explanation later.
She met Zahara’s worried gaze, suddenly wondering who was the bigger fool, she or her husband. What could she possibly say to David to appease him if the food was not enough? She swiveled to look at Jakim, who was already mounting his exhausted horse. “Hurry,” she whispered as he galloped toward the storehouses.
Zahara stepped closer and stared at her as if she had lost her senses. “You would stand in the way of hostile men, my lady? If David doesn’t kill you, Nabal will.”
Abigail lifted her robe and pushed past Zahara back to the house, her heart pounding harder than her running feet. Zahara was right. There would be no way to explain this to Nabal except to tell him the truth. And once she told him the truth, things would not bode well for her.
Zahara caught up with her as they reached the courtyard. “Are you sure about this, my lady?” Though by her tone, Zahara was not trying to dissuade her. How could she?
“I would rather risk Nabal’s wrath than allow our innocent servants to suffer.” She offered Zahara a weak smile, stifling the fear that was swiftly and surely stealing her peace. “Come, help me dress in clothes that will catch an angry man’s attention. Perhaps God made me beautiful enough to allow me to speak. And if my words fall on ears of hardened stone, then at least I will have died trying.”
14
“Gird on your swords, every man of you!” David reached for the blade he had just finished sharpening and tucked it into the scabbard at his side, his hand trembling as he did so. Fierce rage rushed through him. He drew in a deep breath, willing himself to remain steady, to think. He looked up at the
Similar Books
